From McLaggen with Love
by Project H
Summary: The world's most affordable and arousing detective is back on the case when people start to mysteriously vanish from a high-stakes game of wizard poker. He'll have to put his life on the line, but McLaggen makes sure he always comes out on top, if you know what he means.
1. Part 1: McLaggen Royale

_Still fresh from his break-through in the Hogwarts murder case, Cormac McLaggen has continued his award-winning* detective service for the benefit of witches and wizards everywhere. Despite having not had a single successful case since Hogwarts, McLaggen remains both hopeful and delusional that a new exciting adventure is on the horizon._

_*Worst Detective Agency of the Year_

Part 1: McLaggen Royale

I was engaged in a battle of wits and strength with an army of ants on my floor. To the winner, a three-day-old sandwich. Just as I had victory in sight, and could practically taste that green mayonnaise in my mouth, my office door creaked open.

Expecting to see a homeless man breaking in to steal my chairs, I was stunned when in walked the finest looking dame I had ever laid eyes upon.

Her eyes were so deep you needed a lifeguard nearby just to look into them. Her lips so red they would drive a bull wild with both anger and arousal. The type of legs you wanted to build a religion around. Skin so smooth and soft you wanted to cut off a piece and use it to keep a baby safe and warm. Her whole body emanated the kind of joy and wonderment that could only be matched by walking out in the summer heat and spotting a newborn unicorn flying through the air on a team of phoenixes. Nice arse, too.

'McLaggen...'

Her voice was the key to the lock of my heart.

'Bones...'

My voice was the key to the lock of her pants.

'I promised myself I'd never come back here, McLaggen. Not after last time.'

But of course. The last time myself and Susan Bones had come together, we bonded romantically over the murder of a school kid. But sadly, the investigation into a brutal killing ended not with the expected levels of excitement and intercourse, but in tragedy, as I was forced to choose my work over one of the many women of my many dreams.

'I'm sorry, Bones. Not a day goes by that I don't regret our parting. I'm reminded of it every time I look at the picture of you on my desk.'

I showed Bones my tasteful drawing of her naked body straddling a horse that has my face. She threw up a little in her mouth, in approval.

'McLaggen, I'm here purely on business. I have no interest in you romantically.'

'Me neither. No complicated feelings and emotions. It'll be simple, straight-forward, non-stop love-making.'

'No McLaggen,' replied Bones, knowing that even as the suggestion entered her brain it was causing blood to rush to all parts of her body responsible for acts of lust and decisions she'll regret in the morning. 'I have a new assignment for you. I work for an intelligence agency now.'

'I have no idea what an intelligence agency is,' I intelligently responded, taking a step backwards and tripping over a pot plant.

'Basically we gather information on witches and wizards we think may be up to no good,' she responded. 'It's quite a dangerous job, actually.'

'Well Bones, it certainly sounds like you're moving up in the world. And you're not the only one, or perhaps you already noticed my new stain,' I said, as I proudly pointed to a mysterious patch on my wall. 'But back to you for a minute, someone tells me you've begun working at an intelligence agency. For anyone in the room who still may be unfamiliar with such a thing, what am an intelligence agency?'

'I guess you could say I work with...spies.'

'Spies? I have a little spying experience myself,' I said, fondly remembering how I cracked open the case of the girl whose towel kept magically flying off whenever she walked past her bathroom window.

'I didn't want to have to ask for your help, but our agents kept being killed. And when I heard that there was a mission that would almost certainly result in death, I offered your services immediately.'

'Sounds good to me,' I said, still fondly remembering how I cracked open the case of the girl whose towel kept magically flying off whenever she walked past her bathroom window.

'So you're in?' she asked.

'Not in the way I'd like, if you know what I mean.' I tastefully pointed from my crotch to hers, to ensure she understood.

I could tell by the way she swore under her breath, that she had once again fallen madly in love with me. McLaggen – 1. Bones' better judgment – 0.

'And Bones, when you travel with McLaggen, you travel in style,' I said, taking out my very impressive Splintertwig 47, a broom described by Babes of Quidditch Magazine as "barely flyable."

'Climb on,' I instructed Bones.

Completely misunderstanding me, Bones mounted the broom. Ah well, there would be plenty of time to correct her later as we spend the better part of the next day entangling ourselves in a web of sexual tension and the fulfilment of our deepest groinal desires.

'One more thing, Bones. If I'm going to be a spy, I'll need my own sexy spy theme.'

'I'm not sure how you expect me to-'

'Don't worry, I brought my own. I'll sing it as we fly.'

And with that, I took off into the night, warning all villains to beware as I serenaded them with my song of death and eroticism.

_If you were addicted before  
__Then get back on the wagon  
__You can't go cold turkey  
__With Cormac McLaggen_


	2. Part 2: Live and Let McLaggen

Part 2: Live and Let McLaggen

_When he's done with the ladies  
__They always scream "More-mac!"  
__You can never get enough  
__Of the man they call Cormac_

On the broom ride over, Bones explained to me that I was to keep an eye on a high-stakes game of wizard poker. The game took place on a train that never pulled into a station. Witches and wizards instead had to rely on their own means to get onboard. Floo network, apparating, faking a heart attack on the track so they had to stop – any way you could get on.

I smashed the broom safely through one of the train's windows, causing myself and Bones to end up sprawled on the floor in a heap of broken glass and attractiveness.

Bones was so overcome with lust that her arms and legs had chosen to split themselves open and bleed everywhere. It was a common outcome after an evening with McLaggen.

After cleaning ourselves up with some helpful magic and, according to Bones, less helpful cuddling, we prepared for our mission.

'Now remember, McLaggen,' began Bones, 'all you need to do is monitor the players without them becoming suspicious of you. Do you think you can do that?'

'Oh please, Bones, my middle name is Subtlety,' I replied, as I thought about how impressed the female passengers would be as I introduced myself to them as a spy. And how much more impressed they would be as I introduced myself to them as McLaggen.

'Alright McLaggen, but make sure you use the fake name and background I gave you. Do you remember it?'

'Probably. Let's get to the game!' I yelled patiently.

'Very well, but we need to go through check-in first.'

'Chicken first? I wouldn't have it any other way.'

I followed Bones out of our compartment, which was questionably decorated with broken glass and something that looked suspiciously like the top layer of skin from my left leg. It was no surprise to me that Bones had chosen a train as the location of our sweet reunion. Much like myself, trains were powerful and often contained several hundred women at a time.

'Alright McLaggen, the next carriage requires us to register for the competition. So stay on your toes.'

There was nothing Bones wanted more in the world than to be on my toes, as well as several others parts of my body, but such activity would have to be put on hold. It was time for McLaggen to take a journey into the world of espionage, with maybe a stop-off in the town of Susan Bones on the way back.

The next carriage contained a man standing behind a podium. Bones informed me via words that he was the conductor, and informed me via body language that I was her soul mate.

'Remember McLaggen, use that false identity I gave you,' whispered Bones. The false identity was clearly because she wanted Cormac McLaggen all to herself. Understandable.

'Hello sir and madam, are you here to enter the wizard poker competition?' asked the conductor.

'Certainly,' I replied. It was at this point I realised I had cunningly forgotten Bones' entire false persona for both myself and her. Nevermind, I could just make up my own. 'Yes, good sir, my name is Notmac McLaggen, and this is my wife, Mrs Cormac McLaggen.'

'Uh, actually, my name is Lavendar Brown,' needlessly added Mrs Cormac McLaggen. 'And my associate is named Seamus Finnigan.'

'And your relationship to each other?' asked the conductor, practically begging for a relationship with his new best friend Sea...mac Finclaggen.

'Intensely pleasurable,' I replied.

'_Business_ associates,' added Bones.

The conductor wrote "business associates" on his parchment, obviously believing that the pleasurability of such a relationship was so obvious a written record was not required.

'And what exactly is your business?' asked the conductor.

'Pleasure,' I answered accurately. 'But not just professionally. It is also my choice of hobby and lifestyle.'

'We're academics,' said Bones, with a sensual elbow to my ribs. Clearly she could only bear so many seconds without making physical contact with me. 'We're compiling a history of magical games and sports. We're here to observe and participate in wizard poker.'

'And I am an academic in pleasure, or McLaggenology as it is otherwise known. I also teach a class on the topic. I insist on my students all being female, but I provide them with an intense one-on-one tutoring experience in the safe learning environment that is my bedroom.'

The conductor's book very suddenly collided with my face, and through what I can only assume was a coincidence, happened to be in Bones' hands at the time.

From my near-concussive state on the floor, I managed to make out a slight conversation between Bones at the conductor relating to when the tournament started. It was safe to assume that the portions of the conversation I didn't hear were the ones relating to the desired night of passion between the three of us that Bones and the conductor would have to arrange shifts for.

I seductively slid out of the carriage courtesy of Bones dragging me. We eventually arrived at our own personal compartment.

'I must say, Bones, your behaviour in there almost blew our cover. You could really use a refresher course in McLaggenology.'

'McLaggen, could we please just-'

'I would personally like to offer my own services to teach you. I am an expert in the field, given that I teach the class, attend the class, and sneak into the classroom after hours to steal textbooks.'

'McLaggen...' Bones spoke while bearing an expression that in any other circumstance would mean "go away" but in the presence of McLaggen always meant "go away with me to a secluded island resort."

'Do not fret, Bones,' I reassured her. 'I am truly an expert at wizard poker. Sure, I once lost my entire life savings simply by watching a game from afar, but I have a good feeling about competing in a game of life-or-death with the world's greatest players.'

'Ugh, fine. But we need to look the part if we're going to fit in with the other players. Make sure you get into your dress robes before the game tomorrow.'

'I wouldn't mind getting into _your_ dress robes, if you get what I'm saying,' I subtly responded.

I could tell by the way my dress robes were flung into my face that Bones did not want me to see her reduced to girlish giggles at my very appropriate suggestion.

For now, we shall rest. For in the morning, McLaggen goes from detective to super spy. From wizard to wizard poker champion. From not being in Bones' bed to-

'McLaggen! Get out of my bed and go sleep in the other room!'

If only Bones could control herself, we might get some work done around here.

_If you haven't caught up  
__Then your feet have been draggin'  
__You'll want to spend time  
__With Cormac McLaggen_


	3. Part 3: On Her Majesty's McLaggen

Part 3: On Her Majesty's McLaggen

_He's a man you will love  
__He's a man you'll adore-mac  
__The only man you need  
__Is a man named Cormac_

Myself and Bones agreed to meet at 9am and proceed to the gaming carriage together. True to my word, I snuck out of our compartment at 7.30 and made my way over.

My dress robes clung to my tremendous physique like so many girls before it. While some wizards looked their best in such an outfit, I found the various ruffles and trims meant there was less McLaggen on display and was therefore a step-down. Whenever I was at a fancy dinner party and made a delightful comment to a fair lady, comparing parts of her body to various desserts on display, she would inevitably respond with a look of disgust. This was no doubt due to the fact that I was dressed too conservatively and she wasn't quite getting the eyeful of McLaggen she had expected.

I stepped through the door of what I cunningly determined to be the gaming room, and promptly fell out of the train and onto the ground below.

After returning to the train through the difficult process of summoning my broom, attempting to fly it back onto the train, hitting a cactus instead, and needing to repeat the process for an hour until I was actually back on board, I walked casually into the gaming carriage.

It was quiet, but several of the players were already seated in preparation for the morning start time. The first person to catch my eye was a rather serious gentleman who stared at me with the sort of deep-seated anger that screamed "Hi McLaggen. Nice to meet you."

Someone who I myself caught the eye of, but had to throw back because it was too small, was the woman who stood behind him.

Her eyes were so green you just knew they were being cultivated by the world's most sensual fertilizer. Her lips so full they would cause a werewolf to transform. Her hair so blonde it lowered the collective IQ of the room by 20 points. Her tongue so friendly that there wasn't a single part of your body that wouldn't welcome it with the kind of hospitality otherwise reserved for royalty.

Next at the table was the famous Madam LeFaux. She's old.

LeFaux was a very famous witch, and was flanked by a man I knew would be her translator, given she spoke only French. Right now, he was leaning forward and whispering something to her; almost certainly explaining just how gorgeous a creature I am, since the French would not have a word for it due to their country not having a McLaggen.

'Ah, good morning sir. So pleased you could join us,' greeted the conductor.

'That's right, Cormac McLaggen at your service. Mr Cormac McLaggen is here to win the poker tournament. Cormac McLaggen is the name, don't wear it out. That's C-O-R-M-A-C McLaggen. When they ask you who beat you at poker, you look them straight in the eye and say Cormac McLaggen.'

'Oh, there you are,' came the voice of Cormac McLaggen's side-kick Susan Bones. 'I didn't realise you were planning on meeting me here, _Seamus_.'

'Oh yeah, um, right, eh...you may have misheard before that my name is Cormac McLaggen, but my name is not in fact Cormac McLaggen. People often think they hear Cormac McLaggen when in fact they didn't hear Cormac McLaggen at all. My name is...'

'Seamus Finnegan,' unnecessarily stated Bones.

'Yes, Seamus Finnegan.' I necessarily stated.

The serious-looking man stepped forward to shake my hand. 'Pleased to meet you. My name is Gorduroy Westifeld.'

'Hello, my name is Cormac McLaggen.'

The sound of Bones slapping her hand to her head in frustration confirmed that I had thus far played my part to perfection. Speaking of perfection, Westifeld's female companion stepped forward to greet me. Me being the aforementioned perfection.

Bones shifted uncomfortably beside me, perhaps worried that her unrestrainable love for McLaggen would cause her to break our steadfast cover.

'Don't worry Bones, as you will soon find out, I do my finest work when undercover, if you get what I'm saying,' I said quietly with a wink of my mouth.

I could tell by the way she turned away with her body that she wanted to get this poker game done as quickly as possible so she and I could play a game of our own, where the prize would be a one-of-a-kind McLaggen toy. Hopefully it comes with a warning that it is only suitable for ages 16 and up, as it has parts that can be swallowed.

'Pleasure to meet you, I'm Sir Lord Dame Cormac McLaggen,' I said, as I took Westifeld's companion's hand and kissed it. Unfortunately for the human race, the meeting of my mouth and her hand did not immediately spawn thousands of children sharing our spectacular DNA. Instead, it spawned a hand covered with trace amounts of my saliva.

'The pleasure is all mine, Sir McLaggen,' she replied with a smile. I could detect hints of both longing and a Russian accent in her voice. 'My name is Ana Ivanov. And may I just say, I can already tell you are a marvellous wizard, a brilliant poker player, and one hell of a man.'

Her words dripped with an intense hatred that I could not comprehend the reason for, but knew that it meant I should be wary of her from this point on. A woman not in love with McLaggen, was a woman with something to hide.

'And may I introduce you to Madam LeFaux,' announced the translator.

'Yes you may,' I politely informed him.

But before the translator could introduce someone who had already been introduced, I sensed a disturbance in the sexiness. Well, not a disturbance...a saturation. Like suddenly there was so much sexiness in the world that surely the ugly would have to be purged from the planet just to make room. Like I had an entire glass of sexiness, and someone came by with a jug of sexiness and said "Want me to top up your sexiness?" and I said "No" but they started pouring anyway and then sexiness got spilled all over my pants.

Through the door came a figure known across the world as the most known figure. A man who defined undefinable. Someone who transcended transcendence. The one who could not be explained through a lengthy and nonsensical internal monologue. And most importantly, the person who had inspired the world's second-greatest detective and lover.

It was the world's first-greatest detective and lover, Norton O'Malley.

_You'll want more than a sip  
__You should fill up a flagon  
__He goes down quite well  
__Does that Cormac McLaggen_


	4. Part 4: The McLaggen Who Loved Me

Part 4: The McLaggen Who Loved Me

_He seduces with ease  
__And pants drop to the floor-mac  
__No one can resist  
__The allure of Cormac_

Norton made his way through the room, though magical theorists had long believed that he did not in fact need to walk, but rather that he simply leant in a direction of his choosing and the earth moved around him due to the pull of his gravi-sexual force.

'Good morning everyone,' sang all the wonder of the universe. 'My my, it looks like we have some new players.'

As Norton looked at me, I maturely giggled girlishly. Bones did too, no doubt following my lead to make clear to Norton that she had romantic intentions only for me.

'Norton O'Malley, I can't believe I'm finally meeting you,' I said. 'I was your biggest fan. I read up on all your cases and conquests. I had posters of you all over my walls and body.'

He reached out and shook my hand. 'And good to meet you, too.' As our flesh touched, I felt that not only had an angel just gotten its wings, but became instantly pregnant with a new winged angel. 'And what might your name be?'

Bones nudged my ribs. I couldn't tell if it was because she wanted me to keep up the ruse, or was informing me that as Norton was clearly so trustworthy, I could give him my real name.

'Cormac McLaggen,' I replied.

I could tell by the way Bones punched me in the ribs that I had made the right decision.

Norton took hold of Bones' hand and kissed it. 'And who might you be, my dear?'

Bones giggled again. I took this to be a cry for help and immediately punched her in the ribs to help her remember that it is alright to blow our cover.

'Laven-OW! Oh to hell with it, Susan Bones,' Susan replied. 'Norton O'Malley, you say? Why does that name sound so familiar?'

'It's the name girls scream out as Cormac tries to make love to them,' said Norton, with the intelligence and grace of a...wait a minute.

Norton and Bones laughed.

'Are you here for the poker competition?' asked Bones. 'Because I hear it's not yet full. There are a few open slots.'

'I can think of an open slot of _yours_ I'd like to fill,' came the charming voice of McLaggen, and also the charming voice of Norton O'Malley.

It seemed we were in the midst of a stand-off. A vicious collision between two titans of terrificness that threatened to cause widespread carnage and sexual frustration.

'Very good, Mr McLaggen,' said Norton, as he walked around to the opposite side of the table and took a seat, the chair immediately becoming the most envied figure on Earth. I couldn't help but feel as though Norton had not embraced me as the protégé I had hoped he would.

Everyone followed Norton's lead and sat down. Ivanov stood behind Westifeld, as Bones stood behind me.

'Before we can begin,' said the conductor, 'everyone needs to present their wand for identification.'

Myself and Norton shot our arms forward so quickly we practically broke the speed of sexy. Each of us placed our wands on the table for examination.

'Ah, Mr O'Malley,' began the conductor. 'This is a 13-inch wand, made of Sycamore wood, and with a manticore hair core. Very rigid.'

'If you think that's impressive, take a look at mine,' I offered, carefully hurling my wand at the conductor and only slightly burning him with the sparks that shot out.

'Of course, Mr McLaggen. It appears to be made from the wood of...a plastic Christmas tree. And is that a flobberworm at the core?'

'Indeed it is. It used to be a piece of straw, but I upgraded after cracking the Hogwarts murder mystery.'

'Uh, Mr McLaggen, the worm appears to still be alive,' observed the conductor, cherishing the time he got to spend with his fingers wrapped around something of McLaggen's.

'That's right. And if you feed it regularly, it's the most reliable wand you could ask for.'

'It also seems to be...' continued the conductor, '8 ¾ inches, and flaccid.'

Norton sniggered. It was a snigger of beauty, but the atmosphere was ugly. Like a landscape painting of a burning toxic swamp. Or a girl with a pimple.

'Don't laugh, Mr O'Malley,' I shot back. 'After all, it's not the size of the wand that matters, it's how you use it.' I confidently leant back in my chair as my hand grazed my wand and caused me to inadvertently turn Madam LaFeux's hat into a rabbit.

Norton winked at me. I couldn't be certain, but I firmly believed that had I been suffering from cancer at the time, Norton's wink would have just cured it.

'Gentlemen, ladies, shall we begin our first game of the day?' asked the conductor.

Norton offered a nod, as did LeFeux and Westifeld. I offered my affirmation by grazing my hand with my wand and turning the conductor into a rabbit.

The game was on.

_I won't tell you again  
__I don't want to be naggin'  
__But the whole world is talking  
__About Cormac McLaggen_


	5. Part 5: The Man with the Golden McLaggen

Part 5: The Man with the Golden McLaggen

_Don't fall asleep  
__And make sure you don't Snore-mac  
__You can't miss a moment  
__Of the excitement of Cormac_

I sat directly across from Norton, with the conductor, serving as the dealer, on my left. Bones stood behind me, as Ivanov stood behind Westifeld. As my eyes met hers, she smiled at me. This must be how the Russians make death threats.

'Can I assume everyone knows the rules?' asks the conductor.

'YES!' I screamed, in no way trying to cover for having absolutely no idea how the game is played.

'Maybe...' began Norton, the entire universe hanging on his every word, 'we should order our drinks first.'

'YES!' I screamed, in no way trying to buy time due to having absolutely no idea how the game is played.

The dealer called over the waiter and waitress, and both quickly leapt to Norton's side to take his order. Though neither said it, it was a safe bet that they wanted Norton to order a cold drink for now, and some naked waiting staff to go.

'Calm down, friends. I'll be ordering more than enough drinks for both of you to handle,' Norton said with a smile. His perfect head then perfectly turned towards me. 'You know, Mr McLaggen, I like my drinks how I like my woman – several at a time.'

Everyone laughed, swooned and proposed to Norton.

'Oh yeah, well, I too like my drinks the way I like my women – down the front of my pants,' I classily replied, pouring one of Norton's drinks down my pants to make him appear foolish.

'Would you care to place an order, sir?' asked the waiter, eager to speak to me before his more attractive co-worker could win over my affections.

'Indeed I would. I would like to order a...uh...'

'May I recommend a White Russian?' suggested Ivanov. 'I think you'll be quite fond of the taste.' Every one of her words was like a knife of hatred into my heart of heart-tred.

'I'll have a butterbeer, hold the beer,' I requested, demonstrating my sophistication for the finer things in life.

'So...you want a glass of butter?'

'Please.'

'And what about me?' asked Bones, nudging me in the side.

'Oh yes, and Bones would like to watch me drink it. See if you can arrange that,' I replied, punching Bones in the face.

'Oh, and Bones,' I quickly added, 'Don't feel I am denying you a drink. Right now you're becoming intoxicated on a substance known the world over as McLaggen. Twice as addictive, and ten times as delicious as it runs down your throat. Once you feel it on your tongue, you'll never want to taste anything else for as long as you live.' So far, things were going great.

'Alright everyone, here's the first hand,' said the dealer, giving everyone two cards.

Things were going terribly.

I looked at my cards and noticed I had a goblin and a veela. I didn't know what that meant, but if I pushed the cards together I could make it look like they were kissing. Surely that should count for some points.

LeFeux whispered something to her translator, who then offered forward, 'Madam LeFeux folds.' LeFeux placed her cards face down, a position every woman in this room hoped to find themselves in later in McLaggen's compartment.

Westifeld attempted to discuss his cards with Ana, but she only had eyes for me. Clearly she was attempting some sort of non-verbal spell that would cause my head to violently explode. So evil.

'I fold,' said Westifeld, placing his cards down. A bold move. Or not. It was still kind of hard to tell at this point, but I wasn't going to let on that I had no idea what was happening and therefore had some sort of major advantage over the others.

'Good or bad move, Westifeld. You've certainly thought that through well or poorly. I am certain or uncertain, that you are on the verge of winning or losing. Well done or you're awful.' That should cover my bases.

'Mr McLaggen, do you fold, or will you play?' asked the dealer.

'...yes,' I confidently replied, pausing awkwardly as an intimidation tactic.

Bones leant down and whispered something in my ear. Or rather, flirted with my ear in the hope that it will act as wingman to the rest of my body and convince it to date the rest of _her_ body. 'Your cards are good. Make a bet.'

A bet? I was somewhat familiar with the concept. I could faintly remember my father once saying to me 'I bet you grow up to be a complete failure of a human being,' though in this case they probably wanted something of value.

'Certainly. I bet Bones.'

'What?' asked a probably thrilled Bones.

'I know, it's a fairly worthless bid. But give me a break, Bones, I'm new to this,' Bones attempted to jam a handful of coins down my throat in an expression of complete understanding.

'Oh, Mr McLaggen, I did not realise you were going to raise the stakes so high,' said Norton, with a smile that immediately brought a dead dolphin back to life and gave it super powers. 'Although, I think your bid may have also _raised_ something else.'

Everyone laughed, ran their hands through their hair and feigned shyness.

'Mr O'Malley, do you wish to bid?' asked the dealer.

'I have nothing in my possession that could equal the worth of this beautiful young woman. But I will offer up my place on the train. Should I lose the hand, I will leave the game.'

'Gentlemen, turn over your cards,' instructed the dealer.

I turned over my veela and goblin, as O'Malley revealed two unicorns.

'Excellent. I certainly won or lost,' I replied, as Bones moved to the opposite side of the table to confirm or deny my statement.

Norton collected his winnings. 'You know, Bones, I thought those unicorns would be the best pair I laid eyes on today. Then you walked in in those dress robes.'

Everyone immediately took out quills and wrote their phone numbers of Norton's hand. Quite odd, considering that as wizards we have no use for a muggle device such as a telephone.

'Break time,' interrupted the dealer, 'We meet again in 24 hours.'

'24 hours? But that's almost a whole day away,' I said accurately. Seconds later, I was alone in the room.

I had no idea what had happened, what my actual mission was, or what I was supposed to do next. This was certainly more than I normally had to work with.

_He's a sensual elf  
__And an erotic dragon  
__He's mystically sexy  
__The majestic McLaggen_


	6. Part 6: You Only McLaggen Twice

Part 6: You Only McLaggen Twice

_After a night with him  
__Your back will be sore-mac  
__If you need sexual healing  
__Go see Dr Cormac_

Much like making love, detective work was best done on your own in the dark. With Bones now under the supervision of Norton, I was solo again. A good thing too; it was hard to tread quietly when stepping around the puddles of drool Bones always left whenever she had the pleasure of walking alongside me.

Though not yet certain of what 'spying' quite entailed, I decided to start dusting for prints. Magicking up a feather duster, I wiped all surfaces to ensure they would be completely clean of fingerprints. I was not sure how this was meant to help, but am certain it did.

'Psst...'

The universe was calling to me. It wanted McLaggen, and who could blame it.

'Psst, McLaggen.'

I turned to see Westifeld leaning out of his doorway. He had obviously been elected by the universe as its spokesperson.

'Yes universe, it is I.' I moved towards Westifeld with the grace of a dementor that feeds off the arousal of others.

Westifeld closed the door of his compartment behind me. Ana was not present, meaning it was just myself and him. Due to my physical, as well as mental appearance, I often stumbled into such situations with eager men, and had a well-rehearsed response.

'I'm sorry, sir. You are correct to try to bed me, but McLaggen is for female hands only. But if you would like a photograph of Mr McLaggen to keep you company at night, or a strand of Mr McLaggen's hair to keep you company at night, please fill out a form and send it by owl mail.'

The clearly impressed Westifeld furrowed his brow and shook his head. 'Whatever. Listen, I know you're here to investigate the disappearances, but I'm telling you right now to leave.' As he spoke, his eyes darted back and forth nervously. Don't worry, I thought, no one will interrupt this precious time with McLaggen.

'Don't worry, I think, no one will interrupt this precious time with McLaggen,' I said, correctly transferring internal thought to language.

'...sure. I've seen plenty of great officers come through here and try to stop the crimes,' replied Westifeld. 'But once they start asking questions, they disappear. Forever. It's no use.'

'Silence! I know where this is leading. You want to appear scared in the hope that I will warmly embrace you in reassurance. But I'm not fooled for a second.' As I finished speaking, Westifeld's eyes turned suddenly white and he began convulsing. Seconds later, he faced me with blind fury.

'Silence!' I wisely added. 'I know where this is leading. You want to appear under mind-control in the hope that I will passionately kiss you in-' The killing curse fired at my head assured me I was not incorrect to be suspicious.

Westifeld leapt forward and wrapped his hands around my throat, preventing me from kindly rejecting his continued advances.

Clearly fisticuffs were required. I swung my right arm around, and masculinely began pulling his hair until he released me. I then willingly began headbutting his knee repeatedly, followed by a vicious blow to his fist with my nose.

As I began to bleed in victory, and triumphantly lose consciousness, Westifeld began to thrash about. He clutched his head, and one of his eyes suddenly cleared up. It was a vision I was used to seeing, as people did battle with their raging hormones in my presence, but Westifeld seemed to be in more pain than usual.

And when a person was in pain, Dr McLaggen would be on hand to provide some sexual healing. Specifically, two doses of TLM – Tender Loving McLaggen.

Ignoring the swinging fists of Westifeld, I threw an arm around his shoulders, despite not being into that sort of thing. Westifeld's eyes suddenly turned white again, and returned the embrace with a warm, loving crutiatus curse.

As I fell to the ground in agony, my hand briefly brushed against the pocket containing my wand. My wand, or Little McLaggen as it was better known, was clearly eager to join in the love fest and it immediately shot sparks directly at Westifeld. As Westifeld flew through the compartment window and into the night, I couldn't help but wonder if he had been so overcome by the steamy atmosphere that he needed to cool off. That, or Little McLaggen had blasted him out. Either/or.

My floor-based rumination was rudely interrupted by a woman's cry of terror. Yes woman, I understand the difficulty in waking up in a bed not containing McLaggen, but screaming is not the way to handle the situation. Screaming while _running_ to find McLaggen is the correct way.

Leaving Westifeld's compartment, I was met with the all-too-familiar feeling of being struck in the chest by Bones. This time it was unintentional, as she had come running frantically up the hall.

'Oh McLaggen! Come quick, something's happened to Norton!'

'Big deal. Something happened to Westifeld, but you don't hear me bragging about it.'

Nevertheless, I followed her to Norton's compartment. As I entered, I was struck with the overwhelming urge to make love to whomever was currently taking up residence within it; a feeling I generally only felt when entering somewhere _I_ lived.

Norton lay unconscious and alluring on the floor, and I wasn't quite sure which of those qualities was more important right now.

'McLaggen...he's dead.'

And in an instant, he had tragically become slightly less attractive to me.

_We're not insulting  
A__nd we are not raggin'  
__But you're such a fool  
__If you don't love McLaggen_


	7. Part 7: For Your McLaggen Only

Part 7: For Your McLaggen Only

_There's only one of him  
__He can't be bought at a store-mac  
__And you'd never want a refund  
__If you purchased a Cormac_

I carefully inspected the crime scene, and determined there was not a single trace of evidence to suggest who it was that killed him.

'He's covered in lipstick,' said Bones, unhelpfully. But in order to appease the less capable spy, I took a closer look at the kiss marks all over his face.

'I see what you're saying, Bones. The person who killed him was someone willing to kiss him all over his face. That narrows it down to...everybody on Earth.'

'But they'd have to be someone who wears women's lipstick,' Bones added, placing an extra helping of unhelpfulness onto a plate already full of it.

'You're right, it's probably Westifeld. Shall I close the case?'

'I was thinking more along the lines of Ana Ivanov.'

'So was I. But it would probably be better if we concentrated on the murder.'

'I mean she's a suspect,' replied Bones, pointing out that as with myself, Ana was suspected of having stolen her heart. 'I think the lipstick might be poisonous. Look at the slight burns on his lips. I think Ana seduced Norton so that she could plant a fatal kiss on him.'

'I don't agree with you in the slightest, and would rather pose several questions to a man possibly lying dead on the tracks several kilometres behind us, but if you're really going to force me to pay a late night visit to the absurdly attractive foreigner, than I guess I'll have to take one for the team, if you catch my drift.'

I could tell by the way she started trying to wipe poison lipstick onto my mouth that she caught my drift entirely. And I could tell by the way Little McLaggen began to shoot sparks that the entire team was in favour of the plan.

And the plan was simple. I would go undercover as international spy Cormac McLaggen to try and seduce Ana Ivanov. And after that 15 second task was accomplished, I would then try to squeeze information out of her, among other things.

My perfect knuckles rapped upon her door, and I gave her the secret "McLaggen knock" so she knew who to expect. Two short taps, two long taps, and heavy breathing through the keyhole.

Ana was at the door within seconds, though surely they were seconds that she hated existing, for they were seconds spent with a door between herself and the man of her dreams. The man of her dreams, who was now also the man of her reality.

'Yes, can I...oh, Mr McLaggen. What a pleasant surprise.' She smiled warmly in my direction. I was not expecting her to be quite so hateful.

I entered her private compartment and found it to be quite homey. It was decorated in a manner that suggested not only had she been here a while, she intended to remain for a while longer. As did I.

'Mind if I get into something a little more comfortable?' She asked, incorrectly pronouncing the word some_one_.

'Not at all. I was going to suggest exactly that.'

As Ana disappeared from my sight, and more tragically, I disappeared from hers, I knew I had only a few precious seconds to search the room.

Bed – springy. Headboard – sturdy. McLaggen – sexy. The room check confirmed that the compartment was indeed ready for my in-depth interrogation.

'Better?' Ana stepped back into view, and what a view it was. For reasons of personal security, I made sure to scan her carefully up and down before making any sudden, or slow and sensual, movements. Her nightgown left little to the imagination, although unfortunately the imagination was left to imagine the best bits. It seemed every part of her was calling out to me with a sweet siren song.

Toes that stretched from her body like tendrils of her soul reaching out to touch me.

Heels that curved in a preview of the buttocks to come.

Ankles mimicking the lumps that appear in the throat of every man who laid eyes upon her.

Calves as sweet and innocent as baby cows.

Kneecaps that served as checkpoints along a heavenly highway.

Thighs so soft you had to ask them to speak up, just so they would hold up the body of their lucky owner.

Hips that curved like straight lines that had been curved in a curve-shape.

A navel that in no way related to armed services that fought primarily on the sea, but rather was part of a stomach.

Breasts that hung in the air in such a way as to cause physicists around the world to immediately renounce gravity.

Shoulders that could hold up the world, as well the wildest hopes and dreams of every person who lived within it.

Armpits that you could happily nestle into for years at a time, provided the rent was not excessive.

Forearms that were so extravagant they were practically _five_arms.

Wrists concealing arteries and veins, containing the type of blood that would flow directly to the privates of any person who came near them.

Palms as exotic as those you would find growing on a tropical island.

Fingers as long and slender as worms, but instead of squirming through a rotten apple for nutrients, they squirmed through every nook and cranny of the human body for pleasure.

A neck that would force an aroused vampire to make the delicate choice between a delicious meal and leaving a perfect masterpiece untouched and unbitten.

Ears perfectly designed to hear people gasp at how perfect they are.

Cheekbones so sharp they could cut through a deadly silence with the amplified sound of every man in the world climaxing at once, but could never cut through the thick cloud of sexual tension that brewed everywhere they went.

Nostrils that looked ready to flare if they smelled a more sexually perfect being, but had thus far remained at rest for the entirety of their glorious lifetime.

Lips so alluring they told a heartbreaking tale of how they could kiss everything in the world except themselves.

Eyes so blue they made you feel blue with sadness that yours could never match them, green with envy that someone else gotten to reap the many rewards such eyes must bring, red with overwhelming lust, and black with unconsciousness as your feeble mind found it near impossible to fathom that such wonder could exist in an otherwise unattractive world.

Yep, it was just like looking in the mirror.

She sauntered over to me with the desire of an obese person sauntering towards a buffet. And Ana knew that McLaggen is all-you-can-eat.

'See anything you like?' She asked. Her words cut through the passionate atmosphere like daggers of hatred.

'Certainly.' I responded. 'But even when I look away from my reflection, there are certain other sights worth seeing. And I'm not talking about the furniture.'

'Well feel free to sit anywhere you want.' She pushed me backwards onto her bed and crawled over the top of me in what I accurately perceived to be a declaration of war against me. 'I must say you have lived up to your reputation. You are just as smart and as handsome as they say.'

Despite having never been so insulted in my life, I let the comment slide. I needed to find out more about her plans.

'I plan to make love to you tonight, Mr McLaggen.'

She was giving no clues. As her hand moved out of my sight, I felt it land on the front of my trousers. This must be how people in her country shake hands, and being a man of great culture, I copied her actions precisely, though missed her crotch slightly and poked her in the eye.

'Oh, my apologies, Ms Ivanov.'

Her face briefly screwed up in affection before her veneer of hatred returned. 'Quiet alright, Mr McLaggen. Now where was I? Right _here_ I think.' She lowered herself on top of me with her face barely centimetres from my own in what was presumably her native battle stance. I'd have to stay on my toes. Although this position on my back beneath her was also fairly comfortable.

'I know you think these angry insults are getting to me, but you're wrong.' To appear intimidating, I puffed my chest out, although it didn't quite reach the same proportions as her own. To avoid a similar disaster to the last time I was alone in a room with someone, I took out Little McLaggen to move to one side.

'You know, Mr McLaggen, they say if you've seen one you've seen them all, but yours is quite unique. I like a man who knows how to handle a wand. And I'm very good at that myself.'

I correctly determined there to be no poorly-hidden innuendo in her comment as her lips brushed against mine. A hair of hers dropped out of place and across her forehead. I kindly raised a hand to brush it aside, but intelligently forgot that was also the hand holding my wand.

As Little McLaggen jabbed her in the eye, my tongue fumbled over and apology and instead yelled '_Explodo_!'

So overcome was she with arousal that she screamed and leapt backwards. As with most women who were enamoured with me, she began clawing at her face. 'Aargh! Help! I can't see-'

'The two of us in a relationship? I couldn't agree more. Sorry Ms Ivanov, but even as you shriek that marriage proposal at me, you're clearly not my type. I noted a lack of unbridled love when we first met, meaning you have a lack of unbridled intelligence. You will have to make-do with ravaging me in your dreams tonight, as I often do. Good day to you."

I walked out of her compartment, as she blindly and violently kicked at me, imploring me to stay. I closed the door behind me, to distance myself from the toxic atmosphere that Ivanov had created, and decided to return to the always open arms of Bones.

_He's intellectually kissing  
__And emotionally shaggin'  
__It's a mental embrace  
__From the mind of McLaggen_


	8. Part 8: OctoMcLaggen

Part 8: OctoMcLaggen

_If you want sexy  
__He's got it galore-mac  
__Come help yourself  
__To McLaggen, Cormac_

I swayed into the hallway of the carriage with the confidence of a man who had just inadvertently blinded a woman who was trying to make love to him. My delicate eyes spotted someone who moved with the lust of a woman who had plans to make love to the very man who owned the eyes that spotted her.  
"There you are, Bones. I hate to break it to you, but I was recently spread out on a bed, and you missed the whole thing. If you'd like, I can re-enact it for you."

She looked suddenly ill; the mental images giving her a serious case of McLaggen fever. Just as I was about to suggest what she could take in order to cure it, a mysterious figure drifted through the wall.

As the spirit began to take form, I was met with the sudden urge to kill myself so as to join it in the ecstasy of the afterlife. I lunged forward, and though I was only met with a cold sensation followed by the equally sensational sensation of slamming of my face into the wall, I felt richer for the experience.

The silvery mist took shape, creating what appeared to be the image of a perfect world, with all nations living in peace and harmony. On closer inspection, it was a face. But the most beautiful face to ever grace the earth.

And beneath the face – a body. Which was my favourite place to find a human body. A spectre had formed before my eyes, and I knew that without knowing what its intentions were, I would have to be exceptionally diplomatic.

"A GHOST! Take Bones! If you hurt me, she'll have nothing to live for anyway!"

"Do not fear, Cormac. I am here to help you." The voice entered my ear, cleaned it of all wax, and for the first time in my life I could truly hear all the wonders of the world. But this ghost was the only wonder worth hearing. Which meant it could only be the ghost of one person.

"Norton...you're back?"

"Yes Cormac. I have chosen not to move on to the afterlife, and instead shall inhabit the earth. I felt I still had lessons to teach you." The beauty of his voice was matched only by the beauty of the words that voice spoke. "And also because there were several hundred ghost girls lining up to make passionate ghost love to me. I couldn't say no to that many desperate spectres." As he spoke, an ethereal female head poked through the wall, which Norton pushed back through with his ghost hand. Probably worried that had she noticed me, she would have committed ghost-suicide and...come back to life.

"Norton, that's wonderful!" I yelped, immediately returning to my role as a serious detective. "That means you can tell us who killed you."

"Ah, but Cormac, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. Even in death. I just wanted you to know that before today, I felt the world needed me. That should I die, the collective sense of dread created on the planet would cause the Earth to drop out of its orbit and hurtle through the endless vacuum of space. But then I saw you, Cormac. And it was the closest experience I had ever felt to the sensation of seeing my reflection in a droplet of dew falling from the petal of a newly sprouted tulip."

"But Norton..." My mouth struggled to form the words I was about to utter, knowing that they were making the near blasphemous suggestion that my physical appearance had fault. "I can't take your place. I don't look like you."

Norton laughed, instantly changing the outdoor weather from stormy to pleasant. "But Cormac, don't you see? It's not about how you look on the outside. It's how you look inside that counts. From the short time I have known you, I can already tell that your heart is dashingly handsome, your brain is smoulderingly alluring, and you've probably got the sexiest lower intestine known to wizard or muggle alike."

His words washed over me like soapy water washes over things it wishes to wash.

"Norton, you have no idea how much it means to hear that," I said. "All my life, all I have wanted to be is the next Norton O'Malley."

Norton laughed again, instantly changing the outdoor weather from the dead of night to the middle of a sunny day.

"Oh Cormac, don't be silly. You could never be me. But I think being Cormac McLaggen will be almost as good. It'll have to be. Because Norton will be busy filling the afterlife with ghostgasms. Godspeed, Cormac. Solve the mystery of my death, and since I can't get to it anymore, sort out that Bones girl."

"You could still give it a try..." trailed off Bones, sounding as though she considered getting with ghost Norton to be a less intimidating prospect than a non-ghost McLaggen.

"Goodbye, Norton. Any time I question my sexuality, I'll think of you." I gave him a wave, with more than one part of my body, and watched him disappear through the wall.

"Well Bones, I guess it's up to you and me now. Or, more accurately, it's up to me."

I heard a door swing open behind me and turned to see the previously pleasured Ms Ivanov stumbling from her compartment. Her eyes were red with joy, her hair a mess with lust, and her teeth gritted together as a silent way of saying "Be with me forever."

"She...does _not_ look happy," said Bones, oblivious to the signs of infatuation that I was so used to. Glaring eyes meant love. Attempted murder was tantamount to a proposal of marriage.

"Perhaps she is feeling the effects of McLaggen rejection," I responded. "Something you would be well acquainted with. But sometimes you just need to look a woman right between the legs and let her know that she must spend the remainder of her days McLaggen-free. Don't worry, I'll let her down gently. And now, imbued with the unbeatable powers of seduction that can only come from receiving an endorsement by nature's most sought-after sexual treasure, Norton O'Malley, she will bend to my every whim."

Before Bones could protest with genuine concerns that Ms Ivanov may take her own life upon hearing that she cannot spend it with McLaggen, I sauntered down the corridor.

Ivanov, too, made her way through the carriage. Her hand gripped her wand tightly, likely to ensure it didn't accidentally go off and transport her away from me.

"Ms Ivanov, I'm sorry..."

"You will be, McLaggen." She spat at me as she spoke, so eager was she to get me moist. She lifted her wand and held it at my temple. Perhaps she wished to extract the memory of her and I together so that she could relive it over and over. "Any final words?"

"Oh Ms Ivanov, you just don't understand...you're not just dealing with McLaggen, you're dealing with Norton O'Malley. And our combined powers of allure will slowly draw in every living thing on the planet until all is consumed by a black hole of physical perfection."

Ivanov offered a smile. "Ah, Mr O'Malley. Yes, I enjoyed some quality time with him. I met his lips, and he met with death. Were you hoping for the same, Mr McLaggen? Although I don't think I'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed Mr O'Malley. He was certainly...my favourite assignment."

Ivanov got a sudden distant look in her eyes, and she stared off into space. She was either reminiscing about time spent with Norton, or anticipating time spent with McLaggen. She licked her lips slowly...then frothed at the mouth and collapsed.

"How predictable," I sighed. "No woman could ever enjoy the taste of both Norton and McLaggen. The body would reject it."

"I'm pretty sure she just accidentally poisoned herself by licking her toxic lipstick." Bones had snuck up behind me. "The same lipstick she used to kill Norton."

"And I'm pretty sure she overdosed on McLaggen. We'll have to agree to disagree. And agree that McLaggen is right."

"So what next?" asked Bones, not so subtly hinting that we should have an intense debriefing session in the nearest bed.

"THIS next," came a voice from my trousers. No wait, it came from behind me.

I turned to see four people with their wands pointed right at us. The conductor, the waiter, the waitress, and another unknown figure.

"Sorry Mr McLaggen and Ms Bones," said the conductor. "End of the line."

_You'll start to feel sick  
__And you just may start gaggin'  
__Unless you take your prescription  
__For a dose of McLaggen _


	9. Part 9: McLaggen Is Not Enough

Part 9: McLaggen Is Not Enough

_He's in trouble now  
Can he even the score-mac?  
Or is this the end  
Of our hero named Cormac?_

I stared down the four people in front of me. Before I could instruct them to organise a roster if they wished to make passionate love to me, the unknown figure began to speak.

"We knew it was a matter of time before someone found us out, Mr McLaggen. We'd held off the finest secret agents in the entire wizarding world. But you...you systematically worked your way through everyone on this train. You eliminated Westifeld after we placed him under the Imperious curse in an attempt to kill you. You allowed for O'Malley to fall. You killed top Russian agent Dominika Vera, posing as a lowly assistant named Ana Ivanov, just as she too decided to murder her way through the train to find the true culprits. And most remarkable of all, gave food poisoning to Madam LaFeux and her assistant when they copied your drinks order at the poker table and ingested entire glassfuls of butter. So very cunning of you to play on their limited grasp of English language and culture. The whole plan was so very cunning of you, Mr McLaggen."

"Yes. The plan. With all the things I did," I responded confidently. "All the things I did to work out it was you. Those things. Those things that I did. As part of the plan. The plan that I made. Yes."

The figure let out a chuckle as he stepped forward with his wand held high. "But it ends here, Mr McLaggen. Your incredible skills are nothing compared to the collective dark magic that we wield."

I mimicked the chuckle and intimidatingly fumbled my wand from my pocket. It fell to the ground and shot sparks, shattering a nearby window in a show of my masculine dominance over glass. "You may not realise it, but I have made a career out of out-duelling waiters, waitresses, train conductors and...their friends."

"I'm the _drive_r, Mr McLaggen! Trains need drivers too."

"So who's driving the train now?" I inquired intelligently.

"It's a magic train. It doesn't need a driver. Well, sometimes it does. That's why they employ me as a driver and – SHUT UP! Stop changing the subject." His teeth ground together as he snarled. His animalistic attraction to me was starting to make him lose focus. Soon enough, he would do as all animals who encounter me do and start to make love to my leg. Such was the burden of such gloriously beautiful legs.

"But driver, why do all this? Why set up a travelling wizard poker game and then kill off the players?" asked Bones, her voice tearing a hole in the velvet curtain of sexual tension that had encompassed McLaggen and the driver.

"Because once we have their money, players mean nothing to us anymore. It's like we're Bones, and the players are McLaggen. And just like Bones manipulates the feelings of McLaggen to get him to do her bidding, so too do we manipulate our players," said the driver ignorantly. His laughably inaccurate view of the Bones/McLaggen dynamic made it clear that he and McLaggen were not the soulmates that he so desperately hoped they were. "And murder came with the added benefit of drawing Ministry officials to our game. _High-paying_ ministry officials. Care to say hello?"

The driver swung open a door to what we all assumed would be some sort of honeymoon suite set up perfectly for myself and the driver, with a viewing area for the rest of the staff. Instead, my eyes laid upon a floor covered with bodies. I had never seen so many people lying face down on the floor of a room that wasn't my hotel room.

Bones gasped and knelt down in front of one of the bodies, and for once, it wasn't my own. "Gibson...and McDonald, and Blight. All our agents. Dead." Her mouth hung open invitingly, but before I had the chance to fulfil my McLaggen duty, Bones was thrown into the room by the waiter and waitress, with the door was slammed shut behind her.

"Sorry, Mr McLaggen," sneered the driver. "I just wanted your murder to be a little more private."

"As you wish," I confidently responded. "Though I'm always open to letting others watch, if you know what I mean." I winked at the waitress. I could tell by the way she sharpened the end of her wand that she intended to gouge her eyes out after witnessing McLaggen in all his glory, knowing that they would never again be able to enjoy such a sight.

"Farewell, Mr McLaggen," said the driver. "You will make a grand addition to our collection of-"

Before the driver could utter the words "sexual conquests" we were all blown off our feet, so to speak. In through my wisely shattered window flew four wizards upon brooms. The lead wizard dismounted and aimed his wand at the fallen train staffers.

"Excellent work, McLaggen. We've had our eyes on this train ever since we sent you and Bones to investigate. As soon as we saw you fire those red sparks out the window, the internationally recognised wizarding sign of distress, we knew it had to mean you'd caught the culprits."

"Indeed I have," I beamed as I masculinely pulled a stray piece of glass out of my face while sobbing slightly. "These four train workers were in on it together. But their combined brains and sexual hunger were no match for a single McLaggen."

The lead wizard opened the door to the compartment that Bones was knocking against, as her eagerness to lay eyes on McLaggen almost overcame her.

"Glad you're alive, Bones," offered the lead wizard. "I was just saying how impressed we were at McLaggen's ability to work out every aspect of the staff's plan, and his quick-thinking in intentionally summoning us here."

I could tell by the way Bones' eyes narrowed suspiciously at me that she was equally impressed. I opened my stance to allow for her to give me a congratulatory minute-long kiss, but she obviously decided that after all she had been through today, her body did not have the strength to endure the overpowering joy that came from having one's own unworthy lips make contact with McLaggen's.

"Well, I suppose we'd best get back to headquarters," smiled the leader as he rewarded himself with a shake of my hand. "Bones, you may have the honour of escorting Mr McLaggen back to his office."

The spies summoned a flying carriage that they locked the train staff inside, and flew them into the night.

I collected my own broom from nearby and mounted it in front of Bones. "Looks like it's just you and me again, Bones. We could fly away now...or we could go and lie down in that compartment over there. Sure, there are about two dozen bodies, but we'd still be very much alone."

I could tell by the way she strung me upside down from the broom and drove me directly into several trees and cliffs on the journey back that Bones wanted us to be even more alone than that. That woman knows what she wants.

* * *

Myself and Bones stood outside my office as rain started to come down. It was like nature was trying to extinguish our burning love. No such luck, nature. No such luck.

I brushed a hand over her gentle face as she shuddered with enthrallment.

"This is where we part, Ms Bones. But we don't have to. Life is short, but McLaggen is very, very long. Stay with me and live out your days working under me, if you know what I mean."

I could tell by the way she gave an unsettling smirk and lent forward ominously that-

"You know what, McLaggen?" She rather forcefully slapped a hand against my face and began to squeeze my cheek. "You've been right about one thing. There _has_ been something I've been wanting to do to you ever since we started on this mission. The problem is, there are multiple laws in place preventing it..."

I liked where this was going.

"McLaggen, I have had this overwhelming, insatiable desire to take that useless flobberworm-ed wand of yours and stick it so far up your backside and into your body that you would mother an entire litter of flobberworm babies. I have wanted to tie you to a broom and fly it straight into the sun. I desperately needed to tie raw steaks to you and _imperio_ you into running through a field of manticores. I was positively aroused by the thought of cutting you open, burying a bludger between your internal organs, sewing you back up again, and just as you regained consciousness screaming 'Accio bludger!' and then washing my hair and face and body with the blood that spilled out. The same hair and face and body that I wouldn't bring within the same continent as you unless I was being forced to work with you for the good of wizard-kind, or was attending your funeral to make sure you were really dead and spat on your cold corpse while I was at it."

I gave Bones an understanding nod. "Shh, Bones, you had me at 'cold corpse.' I too find myself submerged in a sea of lust within my presence. Finally now I think that you and I ca-OOF!"

I was interrupted from saying what all present parties wanted to hear by a sack of money that magically appeared next to Bones and then flew into my face.

"There's your reward for helping us with the train. Now that you've got it, you and I are done." Bones turned her back and walked away from me, leaving me with the bag of many coins that represented the number of times she had thought about bedding me within the last minute.

"Oh, one more thing," she called. "Apparently those staffers were on quite a number of international wanted lists. That's why Ivanov was on the train. So I also need to give you this." A second bag, this one substantially larger, appeared next to Bones and was sent flying into me, knocking me off my feet.

By the time I stood back up, with my pants around my ankles to save time, Bones had disappeared completely. And by the time I had made it back to my office where I expected to find her, with all my clothes completely removed to save time, she was not there either.

I settled in behind the desk, with my enormous bags of money as my only company. It didn't seem right.

And the universe agreed, as within seconds the room was enveloped with a beauty that actually exceeded my own. The walls shuddered, barely able to remain standing. Old buildings were not designed to withstand this amount of handsome. They could not have known that the future would bring...Norton O'Malley.

His ghostly figure drifted into my office, and he offered me a smile that almost single-handedly closed the mortal gap between the worlds of the living and the departed.

"McLaggen...I had to see you again." His cool, smooth voice may have impregnated me instantly. "I heard all about your success on the train. I'm so proud of you. Some people will try and tell you that being the sexiest creature on earth will only get you so far, but you must never listen to these people. Being sexy will allow you to achieve everything, McLaggen. Never forget that."

"I won't, Norton. I won't." I nodded carefully, ensuring that my view of his was not obscured for a split second by the rhythmic up-and-down movement of my head.

"Even in death, it would seem," he said with a ghostly grin. "I have only been dead a matter of hours, and in that time, every single person who has died has elected to remain as a ghost rather than pass on to the other side. Did you know that ghosts can make love? Everyone knows it now. And ghost love is...to die for."

As the legends foretold, even death could not extinguish the world's need for Norton.

And so it was that I came to save the world from evil antics, yet again. Many, many lives were lost, but as usual, it was worth it. Many, many hearts were broken, and as usual, they were all by McLaggen.

Norton was dead, Bones was even more in love than before, and McLaggen was insanely rich – everyone had gotten what they wanted. There was nothing left now but to recline back on my bag of money and relax.

Suddenly, my door swung open, and in walked one of the finest looking dames I had ever laid my eyes upon.

"Good evening," she uttered breathlessly. "I need someone to do some detective work, as the original person I hired recently died mysteriously on a train."

Looks like McLaggen is the new number 1 detective in town. I'd help her out alright, and if she was lucky, maybe she would survive the investigation.

THE END

_So now you know his story  
The cat is out of the bag-en'  
We now bid farewell  
To Cormac McLaggen_


End file.
